Red and Green
by THEdragon-of-rainbows
Summary: A short story about complimentary colours and moulting.


Red and green are complimentary colours, and the former tends to stand out against the latter.

The sparse amount of bright red hairs on that beloved green armchair were easily visible to Red himself, a rather suitably-named being. In fact, it was one of the first things he noticed upon re-entering the home into the living room. His fur, as short and well-kept as most of it was, tended to shed around this time of year. It wasn't anything new or surprising to Red, but having to clean the house a little more than usual was inconvenient. He had just spent a considerable amount of time getting the hair out of the interior of his car with that vacuum, the noisy yet useful piece of equipment it was.

Without any further thought, Red plugged the vacuum cleaner into the wall socket and switched it on, its loud whir engulfing the near silence of the living room. He quickly went to work at removing all those little loose hairs from the seat. Luckily, the much longer hairs on his head seemed to usually stay in place.

Red then noticed a green feather amongst the shed fur, much less noticeable against the other shade of green. There was no doubt that this feather belonged to none other than Crowe. Red quickly cleaned that little oddity up with the vacuum as well, spotting another green feather along the way. By now, Red was sure that Crowe had been sitting in his favourite armchair, though he wasn't particularly concerned by it. Soon enough, the green seat was rid of red hair and green feathers alike, so Red began his work on the floor of the living room.

That's when Red noticed more green feathers. A few feathers lay across the wooden floor of the living room, towards the kitchen. With a sigh, he cleaned those up as well. He would have expected Crowe, the neat bird he was, to have cleaned up after himself, though chances were he hadn't even been aware of the moulting. Times like these made Red glad that at least Donnie didn't have this problem. All Donnie left behind was muddy shoe prints, though those weren't a whole lot better in most cases. It didn't take long for the otherwise clean floor of the living room to be rid of stray feathers. There was still the kitchen, hallway, bedrooms, and other rooms to deal with, but that could wait.

Red turned his attention to the kitchen and switched off the vacuum cleaner. Silence engulfed the room once again, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of that clock as it loomed on the nearby wall. He could almost feel it watching him as he approached the kitchen.

More feathers.

Red felt confused, perhaps a little concerned. It was quite unlike Crowe to moult so much at this time of year. In fact, it was unlike Crowe to moult this much _at all_. Red didn't start up the vacuum again; instead, he inspected the mess for a while. He was sure all those green feathers hadn't been there before he went outside to clean the car.

"Crowe?" Red called out, hoping to ask about the peculiar sight.

There was no reply. Perhaps Crowe and Donnie had gone out into the field to play. And least any feathers dropped out there would simply blow away in the wind. Red's eyes followed the scattering of feathers to the hallway entrance, where a frightening realisation dawned upon him. The trail of feathers was increasing in density as it progressed, to the point where there were far too many of them scattered across the floor for it to be a simply a case of heavy moulting.

"Crowe?" Red called out again.

Still, there was no reply. He sought to solve this sudden mystery, but it grew more unsettling with each passing moment. Hesitantly, Red began to follow the thickening trail of green feathers with slow steps, making his way down the hallway. At the end of the trail, his feet were surrounded by what looked almost like the aftermath of a bad pillow fight. The most disturbing part was where the trail ended. It ended right at the closed door of Crowe's bedroom.

"Crowe…?" Red called softly one last time, giving a gentle knock on the door.

Once again, there was no reply. Cleaning all those feathers would have to wait, something was horribly amiss and that was Red's current priority. He reached a furry red hand to the door handle and turned it, pushing the door open.

Red and green are complimentary colours, and the former tends to stand out against the latter.


End file.
